


Boxing at Breakfast

by Luthienberen



Category: Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson (TV Russia)
Genre: Boxing, Friendship, Gen, Humor, One line reference to the syringe, Shenanigans, Watson wielding a butter knife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23299657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthienberen/pseuds/Luthienberen
Summary: When their breakfast is disturbed Holmes puts to use his boxing skills while Watson takes a more direct approach.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14
Collections: Luthienberen's 100Fandoms Challenge Fic





	Boxing at Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [okapi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/okapi/gifts).



> **okapi** chose the following Sherlock Holmes adaptation and scenario: _Livanov Holmes with scenario 'boxing'._  
>  I chose the following [100fandoms](https://100fandoms.dreamwidth.org/) Prompt 035 Spring, as I thought it suited the ficlet quite well. 
> 
> I hope it is fun okapi! 
> 
> Music referenced is Bach, Brandenburg Concerto No. 4 in G major. It conjured Holmes in my mind & was a good match for the dual meaning I utilised for "spring":
> 
> https://youtu.be/F0GvYj8VJow

A bored Holmes was a dangerous individual though fortunately this time round, his friend had found solace in the violin.

That said, if Watson heard Bach's Brandenburg Concerto No. 4 which Holmes had been playing all week again anytime soon, Gregson wouldn't need to look far for the murderer of one Sherlock Holmes. Watson adored the piece...just not for seven days in a row, several times a day.

Musical renditions on the violin surpassed the syringe, yet nevertheless, the timely intervention of a band of five stupid buffoons bursting into 221B was a blessing.

Holmes naturally leapt into the fray with his fists.

Watson merely sighed and selected the sturdy crockpot full of hot Scottish oat porridge and, with a silent apology to Mrs Hudson, brought it round in a fine broad swing to the thug on his right.

The man fell with a scream and was silent.

Holmes was harassing two of the gang whilst the fourth roared in rage at Watson and charged. The butter knife, (sharpened more than one would suspect, but a requirement when living with Holmes), answered a higher calling and delivered a cut that had the man howling and clutching his arm.

The fifth was warier, but Watson was tired and on the edge so he dispatched the man with the coffee pot at a distance. He preferred tea anyway. 

Thus sorted, Watson spent a moment applying a bandage to the bubbling buffoon whose arm he had opened up.

He followed his efforts by tying his three thugs to the newly added steel rails by the fire – truly a testament to the type of guests they occasionally received! Collapsing back in his seat, Watson proceeded to admire Holmes’ actions.

The spring in his step was joyful and youthful, seemingly without order yet all the more deadly for purpose lay concealed behind every footfall.

"Ooo," Watson mumbled as Holmes executed a beautiful right hook to one thug, then an undercut to the second remaining one who thought Holmes was preoccupied by his companion.

He was tragically incorrect as the uppercut proved, then even _more_ wrong when Holmes pirouetted with a wild laugh and darted forward. His feet and hands flew to the tune in _both_ their heads which made Watson’s jaw twitch from the effort of _not_ summoning the concerto to mind. 

A second later the thug folded on the carpet with a groan and surprised expression. The remaining thug was at last cautious, staying desperately out of Holmes reach so the two men had springs for feet, matching the fever in their blood and the song of nature blossoming outside. 

It was picturesque, but Watson was hungry, so he called out to his grinning madman.

"Holmes! Please can you end this business? Don't think I haven’t noticed your porridge remained untouched as you played your violin."

"Watson you break my heart."

"Yes, I’m evil, but do hurry up.”

Holmes sighed and in a move Watson did not expect, seized the leftover boxing that had contained Watson's latest model of microscope – one for each of them as Watson knew Holmes would steal his otherwise – which had been well packed with lots of padding.

Now Holmes swung the sturdy cardboard box and laid out their final miscreant. Dropping into the seat opposite Holmes beamed.

"Boxing is an excellent sport Watson. Invigorates the blood and clears the head."

Watson glanced at their guests who were all unconscious apart from one whimpering buffoon who eyed Watson like he was some bloodthirsty butcher. 

"For some yes, others not so much. Now eat up Holmes so we may call Gregson to pick up this lot. "

"Of course Watson, anything you want."

Happy to have Holmes back in spirit, body and mind, Watson relished the rest of his breakfast with his dear friend...humming that exasperating concerto. 

_Damn!_

**Author's Note:**

> [My 100fandoms Fic Masterlist On Dreamwidth](https://luthienberen.dreamwidth.org/145463.html) | [My Collection on A03](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Luthy_100Fandoms_Challenge_Fills)


End file.
